


what is this feeling?

by buggywriter



Category: Mighty Ducks (Movies)
Genre: 5+1, First Kiss, M/M, They're oblivious and gay, no beta we die like men, takes place in d2, uhh the other ducks are kinda there too?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 15:36:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28815747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buggywriter/pseuds/buggywriter
Summary: 5 Times Dean and Fulton think they might be more than friends and one time they finally figure it out.
Relationships: Dean Portman/Fulton Reed
Kudos: 10





	what is this feeling?

1\. just a reflex

Bombay was about to go up against Stanson. They were eye to eye and everything was silent, Fulton was sure you heard them breathing if you focused enough. 

He honestly didn’t understand why they were going through with this anything. Bombay didn’t need to prove anything to the team; they knew he was a good hockey player and a good coach. This wasn’t gonna change that. 

Unless he felt the need to prove it to himself. 

Fulton couldn’t see why but he wasn’t about to object. He loved the fact that he was gonna see Bombay beat Stanson’s ass. Maybe he could wipe that smug smile off his face. 

Despite focusing on the little match between them, Fulton was painfully aware of Portman squeezing next to him. They were shoulder to shoulder and Portman’s hand kept brushing against his. 

The sound of the puck hitting the post brought him back, they were tied so far and Fulton felt his stomach twist. The longer this went on, the more Fulton was hoping Bombay could win. He wanted Bombay to show Stanson up. 

As Bombay hit the third post, Fulton felt Dean’s hand find his. He held it tightly, squeezing Fulton’s hand whenever Bombay seemed to stumble. Fulton didn’t dare tear his eyes away from the match in front of him, afraid of missing something. Still, he took a deep breath and intertwined his and Dean’s fingers, giving his hand a supportive squeeze.

A second later, Bombay was on the floor. His knee was struck by Stanson and he practically collapsed with a yelp. Stanson had the audacity to look proud and suddenly Fulton and Portman were pushing against the others, trying to get through so they could beat the shit out of the guy. 

The others didn’t let them through and Dean’s hand found his again, squeezing so hard it almost hurt. It didn’t matter though, he got how Portman felt so he just let him squeeze his hand for as long as he wanted. If that kept him from losing his cool, it was fine. 

They took Bombay off the ice, hanging out in the locker room while Ms. Mckay found someone to check him over. 

Portman and Fulton stayed by the door, talking about how much Iceland pissed them off before Fulton couldn’t help but bring it up.

“So, uh.. You held my hand?” He went wide eyed, barely comprehending the fact that he had said it aloud. 

Portman didn’t even look phased. “Oh, yeah. That.” He pursed his lips. “It was just a reflex. I have a lot of little sisters so... I hold their hands when they get scared or whatever. It was nothing, I promise.” 

“Oh. Okay.” 

2\. stick and poke

“You sure about this, dude?” Portman held the thin needle in his hand, staring at Fulton curiously. The little pot of ink sat beside them on their night stand while Fulton sat on the edge of his bed, facing Portman as he leaned against the headboard of his bed. 

The two of them had gotten on the topics of tattoos; Fulton was admiring Portman’s and asked if he wanted to get another, which led to Fulton admitting he wanted one and Portman bringing out his stick and poke kit with a smirk. 

“I’m sure.” Fulton took a deep breath, a determined look plastered on his face. Portman couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Calm down there, tiger.” He grinned, patting him on the shoulder. “You just want a skull right? Nothing too complicated?”

Fulton nodded. “Something like yours maybe.” Portman bit his lip at that, the thought of getting a matching tattoo with Fulton made his stomach feel funny and it was hard to ignore. He didn’t say a word, instead taking a soapy paper towel and cleaning off the other boy’s shoulder. 

“I’m gonna start now.” Portman warned, bringing one of his hands to hold Fulton steady while he began to poke in place with the needle, frowning as Fulton’s face screwed up in annoyance. “I know, I know.” Portman sighed. “You’re doing good. I cried a little when I got mine.” He admitted, flashing a smile at Fulton that made the other boy flush. 

Portman pretended not to notice. 

“Hey, I’m not a wuss. It doesn’t hurt at all.” Fulton said, not at all convincing the other boy. 

“Nothing wrong with being a wuss, Reed. Besides, if you’re okay, why does your face look like that?”

“Like what?”

Portman cupped his face with the hand that wasn’t holding the needle, staring Fulton in the eye. Fulton wondered if Portman could see how nervous he was or if he could feel his heart beating through his cheeks. He sure could. His hammering heart beat was the only thing he could focus on beside the warmth radiating from Portman’s touch. 

“It’s all red.” Portman chuckled.

“Maybe it’s because you’re touching it with your hot ass hands!” Fulton pulled his face away from Portman’s touch, glance down at his hands. 

“You think I’m hot?” Portman smirked.

“Shut up and finish the tat, dumb ass.”

3\. past curfew

Fulton couldn’t believe he and Portman had actually managed to sneak out of their dorm. Their night had been so fun so far; they had gone to a record store, played some arcade games, and even got some food. They could finally relax after practicing and studying nonstop. It felt nice to just mess around. It really seemed like nothing could keep them down. 

Until they saw Bombay with that fucking Iceland girl. It completely ruined both his and Portman’s mood.

While he felt more upset, Portman looked pissed. Fulton didn’t expect anything else from him though, it seemed like any upsetting situation seemed to fill him with anger. Fulton could sadly relate. He could never separate his other negative feelings from anger and it led to everything being muddled. Portman probably went through the same shit. 

“God, I wouldn’t have come here if I knew our coach was gonna be some fucking traitor.” Portman muttered, his brows furrowed as they sat on a bench outside the strip of shops. 

“Really?” Fulton suddenly felt ten times smaller. He didn’t know why but that made him feel really lousy. 

“I dunno. I think it’s just me being pissed.” Portman said, nudging Fulton’s shoulder with his own. “I mean, if I didn’t come over here, I wouldn’t have met you, right? I’d say that’s reason enough to be here.”

Fulton laughed nervously, feeling his heart leap into his throat. “For real, Portman?”

Portman nodded without a second thought. “Duh, you’re my Bash Bro. Who else would help me hype up the crowd and bust some skulls?” He replied with a smirk. 

“You don’t have any back home like that?”

“Nah. You’re the only one for me.”

Fulton knew he didn’t mean it like that but it gave him butterflies nonetheless. 

“You’re the only one for me too, idiot.”

The two of them sat on the bench in silence, matching smiles on their faces until Portman finally spoke up. “Can we get ice cream now?”

“Hell yeah. Let’s go.”

4\. cracked glass (fulton gets injured)

It was the third period of the game against France, they were ahead by two points and it looked like they were really gonna win. Portman was screaming his lungs out in the penalty box because, of course he had gotten a penalty. 

Luis had just passed to Fulton who was lining up for one of his powerful shots. Portman’s throat was starting to burn from how much he was yelling but he was not about to give out now. Especially not when Fulton was about to score. 

Fulton was winding up, holding the stick so tightly it almost hurt. He was looking square at the goal one second, and the next, he was on the floor. Fulton could feel the back of a skate connect with his stomach and his breath was knocked out of him. All he could do was watch as one of the French players took the puck and got out of his line of sight, heading towards their goal. 

He could hear Portman yelling, saw Bombay standing over him with a ref but he couldn’t focus on it all when there was a sharp pain in his side. It was almost pulsing; worsening whenever he took a breath. He had definitely broken a rib.

Suddenly he was being taken off the ice on a stretcher and out of the corner of his eye, he could see Portman being held back by Averman, Charlie, and Goldberg. Weird. 

After Fulton was taken off, it only took a few seconds before Portman was taken out of the game, forced to go to their locker room after punching the guy responsible for Fulton’s fall. He even tried to take a couple swings at him with his stick but was unsuccessful. Portman hoped that guy realized how lucky he was that he wasn’t given the chance to beat the shit out of him. 

He was stuck in the locker room, swinging blindly at whatever he could so he could keep his mind off of the fact that Fulton was in the hospital. He knew the other boy was probably okay but, being ‘probably okay’ was not good enough. He needed Fulton to be okay. He didn’t know what he’d do without him by his side. 

He really wished he could’ve gone with Fulton in the ambulance. As tough as he seems, Portman knew he hated hospitals and anything related to the doctors. He couldn’t be doing so good right now.

He also hated the fact that he wasn’t allowed to go with him because he wasn’t Fulton’s family. That was the biggest bullshit Portman had ever heard. Sure, he hadn’t known him for too long but he and Fulton shared everything. They were like the closest thing each other had to family, especially when they were both so far from home. That should’ve been enough for those dumbasses. 

It was certainly enough for Portman. 

5\. whole lotta love (the bonfire)

The team had won the game against Iceland hours ago and the adrenaline was barely starting to wear off. They had been sitting around the fire for a couple hours, suggesting songs for Dwayne to play before they eventually ran out, leading to the group breaking off into little conversations amongst themselves. 

Fulton never thought of himself as the sentimental type but he couldn’t help but look around at the others, reminiscing on how much they had grown with each other; even those who had just joined the team. 

Averman was plucking at Dwayne’s guitar string as the other boy swatted his hand away, trying his hardest to play an actual song. 

Connie, Julie, and Guy had formed a braid train. Julie braided Connie’s while Connie braided Guy’s. He couldn’t help but laugh at the way Guy pouted. He really did anything as long as Connie asked.

Kenny and Jesse seemed to be playing Tic Tac Toe in the dirt, using sticks to draw their circles and x’s. 

Luis kept sneaking glances at Dwayne. He’d had to keep note of that. Even if Fulton wasn’t the best with romantic shit, it was clear that Luis felt something towards the other new kid. Anyone but Dwayne could tell. Hell, Bombay could probably tell. Then again, he couldn’t talk when he could barely figure out his feelings for Portman. 

Fulton’s eyes snapped back to the boy beside him, basking in his warmth as Portman pulled him impossibly closer. “You think Tex knows how to play Whole Lotta Love?”

Fulton tried to stifle his chuckle. “Doubt it, dude. I’m surprised he knew those Queen songs he played earlier.” He leaned into the other boy, a big smile on his face. 

“True.”

After a beat of silence, Portman began to sing. His voice was low and raspy and it felt like Fulton’s heart stopped. The other boy was singing so quietly that it felt like he was singing right to him. It made Fulton want to scream.

“I’m gonna give you my love... I’m gonna give you my love...” Portman sang softly, mumbling every other line. At one point, his eyes met Fulton’s. Fulton felt like he was gonna pass out. “You’ve been learning... Baby, I been learning...”

Fulton let out a shaky breath. He and Portman were inches apart and Portman’s hand on his shoulder was so warm. He felt like was burning up and he wished he could blame it on the fire. His gaze flickered between Portman’s lips and back to his eyes, ignoring the way his heart beat sped up when Portman smirked. 

He had definitely noticed. 

“I’m gonna give you my love... I’m gonna give you my love...” Portman continued singing, even with he and Fulton being inches apart. It felt way too intimate and Fulton was finally questioning if they had crossed the line of being ‘just friends’ long ago. Kenny and Julie were definitely looking at them. He could feel their eyes on him despite only looking at Portman.

At least now—Fulton figured, his eyes glued to Portman’s lips as he sang—he was finally able to sort out those feelings of his. 

+1. seeing clearly

Portman awoke to Fulton standing over him, there were bags under his eyes and his hair was pulled into a little ponytail, though, most of the hair had seemingly fallen out of it already. Portman almost jumped out of his skin, sitting up so quickly it made him a bit dizzy. 

“The fuck are you doing up?” He asked groggily, rubbing at his eyes before glancing up at the other boy again. 

“Sorry.. I just..” Fulton trailed off, biting his lip and sitting back on his own bed. “It was nothing. Never mind, just.. Go back to bed.” Fulton said, laying back down and pulling the thin blanket over him. 

Portman wasn’t about to let it go that easily. 

He made his way over to Fulton’s bed, climbing under the blanket and pressing his chest up against the other boy’s back. “Nightmare?” He asked. Even though he spoke softly, Fulton could feel the way his chest vibrated as he talked. It was weirdly comforting, along with the steady beating of his heart. It made it so he was sure the other boy was there. It made him feel safer. 

“Yeah.” Fulton replied, stiffening as Portman wrapped his arm around his waist, holding him close. 

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Mm.. Okay..” 

A moment of silence passed. 

“You know, you don’t have to—“ Fulton began, shifting around so he was laying on his back, keeping Portman’s arm on his waist. 

“I know.” Portman replied simply. “Do you want me to go back to my bed?”

Fulton paused for a second before finally answering. “No.”

“Then I’ll stay here.” 

Another moment of silence passed and Fulton couldn’t help but blurt out another question. 

“This isn’t weird for you?”

“Nah. Why would it be? I like this. You’re really warm.”

“Oh.” 

Portman was rubbing circles into the fabric of the black t-shirt Fulton was wearing, causing his skin to tingle. 

“Are you sure this isn’t weird for you?” He just couldn’t shut up. 

“Reed, you’re acting like our other friends don’t do shit like this all the time.”

“That’s because they don’t.”

Portman propped himself up on his elbow, wrinkling his nose and staring at the other boy as Fulton forced himself to stare at the ceiling. “What are you talking about? Yes they do! Julie and Connie—“

“They’re together.”

“Okay, but.. Dwayne and Luis—“

“They like each other but won’t admit it.” Fulton continued to argue, his eyes fixed on a crack that went from the ceiling to the wall beside him. 

Portman pursed his lips, trying to think of another two of their friends that acted how they did. It then dawned on him that he couldn’t. 

Friends didn’t hold hands, didn’t get butterflies when the other jokingly calls them hot, and friends certainly didn’t think about kissing the other. He just tried to ignore that fact but it seemed to sneak up on him every time he was affectionate with Fulton. 

He’d wrap his arm around the other boy, play with his hair, do whatever he wanted and there was always this weird feeling in his stomach that made him feel like he wasn’t supposed to be doing it and this was why. Friends weren’t like this. 

But then, that meant that he and Fulton had been more than friends for a while and Fulton had realized that long ago. He had just never said anything.

Portman was starting to feel dizzy. 

He huffed and sat up, sitting atop the other boy and staring at him incredulously. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Fulton mumbled something in response, looking anywhere but at Portman. 

“What?”

“Because, I liked it.” He said louder, squeezing his eyes shut. “I like being close to you and holding your hand. I like when you play with my hair. I like you.” He swallowed thickly and finally looked at the boy above them. “As much as I liked that though, I love being your friend more. I love being on the ice with you and hyping up the crowd and I was just scared that things would change if I said anything. I didn’t want to lose you.”

Portman was dumbfounded. There were so many things he wanted to say. He wanted to tell Fulton that he would never lose him. They’d be friends forever no matter what life threw their way. He wasn’t gonna let him go that easily. He wanted to tell him that he liked being close to him too. He liked holding his hand. He liked thinking of him when a stupid love song came on. He liked that they were always by each other’s sides but most importantly, he liked Fulton. 

Despite all the thoughts racing in his head, all that he could manage to say was, “Oh.”

He wished he could take the words back as multiple emotions flashed on Fulton’s face until he just looked hurt. 

“Oh.” Fulton echoed, his voice faltering. “Okay then.” He nodded, trying to hide his disappointment. 

“Wait, wait, Fulton! I—“ A look of determination came over Portman’s face and suddenly his eyes had a curious glint in them. “I wanna hug you.”

“The fuck?”

“Can I hug you?”

Fulton stared at the other boy, searching for any sign of a joke in his face. He figured he had nothing to lose. “Yeah.”

Portman got off the other boy, waiting for him to sit up before wrapping his arms tightly around the other boy. He could feel Fulton’s heart beating against his chest and it gave him a sense of completion that he had never felt before. It was terrifying. 

“I like you a lot.” Portman finally admitted, his chin resting on Fulton’s shoulder. 

“Cool.” Fulton said, laughing so hard he shook both of them. 

They finally pulled apart from their hug, staring at each other with ecstasy. It was like everything fell into place the moment Fulton admitted how he felt. It was weird to know that their feelings were reciprocated, especially when they had never had much luck with romance before.

“I can’t believe you didn’t know I liked you.” Portman said, running his hand through Fulton’s hair.

“What? What do you mean?”

“Oh, come on, dude! I was so obvious! Like, the bonfire?”

“Okay, that wasn’t too obvious! I just thought you really liked that song!”

“Fulton, I basically asked you out on a date that time we saw Bombay with that Iceland girl!”

“You did not!” Fulton fired back, his hands finding Portman’s waist. 

“I did too! I said ‘Reed, wanna go get some ice cream with me? I’ll pay’ and you asked if we were inviting anyone else and I said that I wanted to just spend time with you because I liked you!”

“I thought you meant as friends! I thought you were straight and playing around with me up until today!”

Portman couldn’t hide his disbelief. “Are you serious? I’m literally gay.”

“How was I supposed to know?”

“I literally said that Luis is hot and that I would totally kiss him.”

“Everyone thinks he’s hot, though! You’re not special.” Fulton argued, thinking about how Goldberg had said he was straight and still said he’d probably kiss Luis if he was given a chance. Julie even acknowledged that he was good looking. It was a universal thing. 

“God, whatever, whatever! All that matters is that you know now! I like you. I’m gay.”

Fulton finally asked what he’d been meaning to ask all night. “Can I kiss you?”

“Please.” Portman responded, looking very eager. It seemed Fulton wasn’t the only one wanting to do this all night. 

Fulton’s hands came up and cupped the other boy’s cheeks. He caressed his cheek as he slowly leaned in, cherishing what was his first kiss. It made his stomach flutter as he realized his first kiss was going to be with Portman. 

A boy. 

A boy that he liked a lot. 

A boy that liked him back.

God, he figured he’d never get used to that. 

When their lips met, fireworks went off, surging through their bodies and making them feel like they were in some dumb romcom. It was clumsy and quick but that didn’t matter. It had finally happened and nothing could bring them down from cloud nine. 

Even after they kissed, they held each other close. Their foreheads were pressed together and they took a moment to just live in the moment. It was weird but exciting to think that they’d have many moments like this that have yet to come. 

Neither Fulton or Portman could wait to get through those moments together.


End file.
